


Of Full Moons and Bellies

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Petstuck (Homestuck), Belly Kink, Breeding, Come Inflation, F/M, Gangbang, Lactation Kink, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pregnant Sex, Sort Of, Stuffing, breeding as power kink, dont ask me to explain this, im posting it in anonymous for a reason, they're poly cat... things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 05:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16278317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Karkat is a queen, a troll whose main job is to birth hundreds and hundreds of kits over his lifetime. And you know what? He's actually okay with it. Super mega okay with it. Because he's got a lot of toms that breed him and take care of him and they're all really, really hot.This is absolutely shameless and self-indulgent. But if you share my laundry list of kinks you've probably already clicked the link by now.





	Of Full Moons and Bellies

**Author's Note:**

> So this is all of my kinks/cards on the table. I feel dirty for this but I need more gangbangs AND breeding AND stuffing AND all of this as being something the receiving party is actually super into and does totally freely from the word go. 
> 
> Trolls are all cat kind of things, which is why I'm using those terms (like basically think petstuck designs) and there's no empire. Basically they've got a social system where there's one queen (omega) that's basically in charge, some broodies (betas) that raise the kids and care for the queen, and a lot of toms that basically do the hunty, fighty, breedy parts. 
> 
> But let's be real, it's my excuse to play with someone being super into getting gangbanged and getting mega pregnant like constantly without having to worry about repercussions because that's my thing.

The moon rises full, big and round like your belly was a few short weeks ago. Two of your teats are still almost painfully full, the kits unable to keep up with the bounty of milk you produce, but the rest of you feels so, so empty. You birthed your kits two full moons ago, and now it's time to start on another litter.

You set up in your favorite clearing. Your toms watch you, like they have every heat you've had so far. You arch your back and lift your tail, exposing your wet nook. Yet there's hesitation. If that wasn't enough of a sign you cry out to them.

“Don't make me use my own fucking bulge!” You warn.

John steps forward. Ah, that was the reason for the hesitation. He's as surprised as anyone else that he climbed to the top of the pecking order this quickly. But honestly when you accepted him as one of your toms you had a feeling. He might be young but he’s an indigo tom: big, strong, virile, with long curved horns perfect for sparring. But he's still inexperienced. He arrived just after your last heat ended. But he learned to mount you well before the kits began to squirm inside of you. He’s a natural, and now he gets to prove it.

And he does it now. He climbs on top of you, claws raking carefully down your back. You yowl as it sends shots of desire to your already dripping nook. Your bulge slides out and begins to curl. He giggles - not even chuckles _giggles -_ at that, and begins to work his massive bulge into you. By girth alone you would have expected him to be purple. It's not like you can get super exact with how much colder he is through your nook. All you know is it's cold and big and you love it.

His bulge begins to coil and pulse as he fucks you, rubbing all the tender spots buried deep inside of you. When the probing tip finally finds your seed flap he speeds up the pace, racing towards the edge.

Outside he bites at your neck as his claws scramble for purchase. Fuck, this was the troll that made the slowest, sweetest love to you during your last pregnancy, but now he just takes and takes. His keening joins in with yours as he goes faster and faster.

The other Toms shift uneasily at the edge of the clearing.  They sniff the air, smelling your heat as the sex drives you higher. Terezi, ever impatient, starts approaching before John even finishes. John growls protectively and grips you harder. She rolls her sightless eyes and shoves two fingers into his nook. He comes with a surprised shout, letting loose a flood of genetic material. You take all of it easily and purr. It's not enough, of course, but it's a good first contribution.

“I wasn't done!” He growls.

“Yeah, well, you are now. You mounted him, you came, now it's my turn.” She shoves him out of the way and plugs you like a flash. Her bulge is slim and talented and immediately gets to work on your seed flap and shame globes, making you whine excitedly.

“Yeah, but if none of the kits are mine I'll blame you.” He stalks back over to the other Toms. Dave gives him a congratulatory pat on the back, still not taking his eyes off of you.

God, you can't wait for Dave's turn. You have little say in the pecking order, other than being able to exile trolls you don't like, but if you had it your way Dave would never have to wait. He takes such good care of you, never comes without making sure you do too. Of course, even if he's not first you always find time to sneak him a few extra rounds and it seems to work. All three litters he’s been here for you’ve had at least one burgundy.

Terezi bites you hard, putting your attention back on her. You throw your head back and cry.

“That's better,” she says.

But she doesn't stop her external stimulation there. She reaches around, rubbing at your teats. The drained ones feel overstimulated as her pawpads caress them, feeling almost like a kit’s gums. But then she reaches the full ones and you cry out.

“Remember our first litters?” She whispers. “And you only had a few but they were always all mine or Gamzees?”

“How could I forget?” You have fond memories of those first two. It was intimate, your two first toms, the three or four kits, and only Kanaya to act as broodie. Now Latula is old enough that she’s watching her little siblings.

She chuckles. “Well remember the part where you were so uncomfortable because your teats were so full we'd have to do this?” She really begins to paw at your teats then, and soon you've got milk dribbling down, uselessly sinking into the dirt below. You shudder and shake. It feels so good, but so wrong. That's supposed to be for the kits, and yet you try to rock down into her hand as much as up into her bulge

“And look at you now,” she says, “look at your harem.”

And you do. They're all so beautiful. Strong and fast and smart, and most of them high on the hemospectrum. Most of your toms could walk up to any queen, but they want this, they want _you._

“You're lucky I'm willing to share,” she says.

You laugh at that. Like she doesn't love dominating every lower ranking tom as much as you love having them mount you.

She goes quiet after that, focusing fucking you and milking you. She keeps you pinned there, nearly overwhelmed but in a good way, until she comes.

 

Her genetic material rushes into your genebladder. You no longer feel achingly empty, but you're not full either. You touch your belly and if you press you can feel the firm organ, but it could be much bigger. You wanna look ready to give birth when you waddle back to your den.

Jade glides up next, sweet and gentle. The moment Terezi's gone she's draped over you, taking her turn. When she comes, filling you with a flood of material only slightly cooler than you, you finally begin to feel some stretch in your genebladder, and that's enough to give you your first release. Your material pours uselessly into the dirt, but that's okay. Your days of having to self fertilize are over.

Just to drive that home, Dave steps in. Because you just came, Dave has to actually suck you off to bring you to completion after he finishes, but that gives Meenah time to take you from behind. You try to look down at Dave but you can't see his face under the curve of your stomach. Then Meenah comes _fuck_ do you feel it. You see it too, stretching your belly further. Fushas might be small, but _fuck_ do they produce. Your bulge twitches, unable to become fully aroused again, but also unable to pull itself back in with the pressure of your stuffed gene bladder. As much of a stretch as you're feeling you still want more.

And you're about to get it.

Finally, Gamzee plods up to you. He rubs your swollen stomach.

“Look at you, bro.” He says. “You're fucking beautiful.”

You beam at him. “Wanna make me even prettier?”

He laughs, “You motherfucking know it.”

“If anyone's a motherfucker here,” you gasp as his massive bulge prods your nook. “It’s you.”

“Damn right. Ready for me to finish off litter 5?”

“You fucking know it.”

Too bad he’s not _actually_ ready. He slowly, languidly works his monstrous bulge into you, prods at your poor, sore seedflap. Even his thrashing is tortuously slow.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Gamzee…”

At your plead he forces himself through the seedflap. You moan, feel a tiny trickle of material escape your bulge. If you had any higher faculties left, you'd be surprised. As it is, your awareness is contained to the bulge inside of you, your heavy gene bladder, and your crushing need for _more._

It feels like an eternity, but eventually Gamzee's sharp teeth sink into your shoulder. That's the only warning you get before a wave of pressure forces your skin and the genebladder beneath to stretch even more. It's a rush of cold as Gamzee’s material first comes in a thick stream against the wall of your genebladder, and then slowly mixes in with the rest of the material, in a cool, heavy mess in your belly.

And there it is… that's all of your toms. Gamzee slides off of you, giving you space to sit back on your haunches. You rub your poor distended belly, licking your lips. Yes, this is what you wanted. You're nearly as big and fat as you were when you birthed your first few litters.

The toms rub up against you, grooming you and purring. Your bulge gives another spirited wiggle but no… no. The moon is beginning to set, and your teats are full of milk for the kits you already have.

You push yourself away from them and waddle back to the den.

The kits are climbing all over Rose and Kanaya, but as you enter the den, they run from the broodies and to you. You go to the nest and lie on your side.

The kits each find a nipple and latch on. All six are here, and they drink heartily. You sigh happily. Even if you can't get away from the weight in your genebladder, they at least give you some relief in your teats.

“Have a good breeding?” Kanaya asks.

“Ha, take a look,” you say, patting your swollen abdomen.

Your sister plods over and soothes your side. “How does it feel?”

“Amazing, Kan, you know that.”

“I've never seen you this big,” she murmurs.

“He's never had six Toms before.” Rose points out from the corner. She's curled up with Kankri and Feferi, keeping the precious immature queens warm and comfortable.

Kanaya scowls. “Yes, and he's got to hit a breaking point someday.”

You choose to ignore her and instead purr softly to your kits and groom them as they feed, and then as they drift back to sleep. You feel the pressure inside your genebladder begin to lessen as time passes. You're not sure where all the slurry goes, but you do know as your belly begins to deflate you start feeling better, more energetic, and a little horny again.

As you wonder whether you want to call the toms for another official breeding tomorrow night, a figure appears at the entrance to the burrow. You recognize John's scent just before you hear him say, “Hi, Karkat!” his voice is a little muffled, and as he approaches you see a rabbit hanging from his mouth.

“Hi,” you reply.

He sets the carcass down in front of you. “Brought you a present.” He says.

“Oh _fuck_ yes.” You moan.

You barely remember to eat during your heats, but with warm prey in front of you  it's hard to forget. He comes a little closer and begins to groom near your horns. You purr to him as you eat, hoping he gets what a good boy he's being because, fuck, if he keeps this up he might go from _a_ favorite to _the_ favorite. The meat is tender, still warm. He clearly came right here without even thinking of having any himself You eat and eat and eat as quickly as you can.  

“I also… Wanted to see how you were doing. You seemed like you were in rough shape by the end.”

“Nothing I can't handle.” You assure him, between bites.

“Okay. That's what the others said, but…” his eyes trace down your body, and you feel them pause on the roundest part of your belly. A part that's even fuller now that your stomach is stretching as much as your gene bladder.

You rub your paws over it. “I know it might not look like it, but it feels good.”

“I know, but…”

“No buts.” You roll over and get to your feet. The slurry stirs within you as your belly sags. “I like being full, John.”

His pupils are the size of the moon. “I mean… it suits you.”

“Yeah. And actually, since you're here, wanna top me off?”

“Seriously?” He asks, excitedly.

You just lift your tail and turn, presenting him with your nook.

He teases it with one digit. “I can't believe you're this wet again…”

“Yeah, well, welcome to being in heat.”

You see Rose and Kanaya further back in the den tending to the kits. They pay you no mind. They're doing their part of the process, you're doing yours. You stay pregnant, make the kits nice and fat off of your milk, love them and coddle them while they're young and then hand them off when they get too rambunctious. Your broodies do the hard part and actually teach them to be trolls, figure out what role they're to play in the colony. You just get to be the heart of your colony, to bring legions of workers and breeders from your belly. They and the toms make sure you survive for now, but you're the one who grants them eternity.

Well, you suppose the toms help with that too.

John mounts you, settling his bulk down over your frame. Fuck, you can't get over how big he is! You picture the kits he’s going to sire, big and blue as the Eastern sky at twilight. You bet they'll be nice and cute and fat too. You want to meet them, want to coddle and nurse them and the fact they don't even exist yet makes your heart ache.

Of course, they'll  be here soon if John has anything to say  about it. His bulge unspools and works its way into you. There's a spark of pain as your nook is forced to stretch around his impressive girth, but it's a good hurt, and you keen for more. Sadly, your outburst draws the attention of some of the kits and they cry out in confusion. Poor things, they've never seen mommy being bred before. You let out your little churrs and between that and the broodies’ grooming they seem to settle. To Kankri and Feferi it's old news, though. They ignore you completely.

John pauses when he gets in to the root. You glance over your shoulder and see him looking at the kits. “They're so cute…” he breathes. “I want one.”

“Keep doing this, you’ll get plenty. Fuck, I'd give you a whole litter if I could.”

He startles enough to pull out a tiny bit. “You mean it?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you close your eyes and lean back to him, not bothering to tell him you'd do that for all of your toms. They don't stay unless they’re worthy of siring your kits, but that doesn’t make them any less special.

“Oh, Karkat…” John breathes.

He begins to fuck you, slow and steady, his bulge coiling and pulsing inside of you. This is more like him. Oh, fuck, the slurry churns within your genebladder and your stomach  burbles. There's so much movement down there it almost feels like you’ve got a couple kits inside of you. You arch your back and he slides his front paws under you. He runs them between your two rows of teats, over your chest and belly, until he finally reaches your bulge. You curse softly as he rubs at you in time to his pulses, stimulating you from inside and out.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “God you’re gorgeous, and you breed so well… I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find you.”

But this is the second round of the night for him, and it can't last. As he pushes in past your seedflap you're eager but almost a little disappointed it needs to end, even if it's so he can give you his contribution.

Of course, as soon as you think that he actually comes. Your belly swells even more as another cool stream of material mixes in with the rest. You’ve got twice as much of his slurry as anyone else’s, and he deserves it. When you examine your new size you notice with slight surprise that he looks like he added another kit to the litter. The only time you've been bigger than this you gave birth to six kits. Holy fuck do you know how to pick ‘em. Just thinking of the volume of cum he just poured into you makes your bulge thrash.

You sigh with pleasure as he dismounts, giving you space. You roll onto your back to better examine the great mound of your stomach. You're nice and firm there now, with your pink teats poking out through your black fur. You’ve got at least a few dregs left in all of them, ready to feed even as your body is already at work making a brand new litter to suckle the second your others are weaned. This is what you were born to do, and you do it so, so well. But you want more. You’re tempted to tell John to send another tom in, but before you can he speaks up.

“Wow,” He says. “How are you even gonna know when you're pregnant?”

You laugh. “Oh, trust me, I will.”

Danger, or at least new experience, over, the kits swarm what's left of the rabbit, gobbling up morsels you left in your desire to be fucked. It's good that they're starting to get a taste of meat, since it'll have to be more and more of their diet as the new kits grow, so there'll be no competition when the new ones are born. John leans down and nuzzles one of the kits before moving back to you. You lie on your back, stretching out completely.

As you relax, you notice John has a particular fascination for your middle. He licks it, nuzzles it, and it feels so nice you don’t even care when he samples a bit of your milk. Then you feel his bulge swipe against your thigh. You open your eyes to see his pupils blown wide. His ears are perked forward in excitement.

“Again?” you ask, more amused than annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be.”

You spread your legs a little, and the angle is awkward but John manages to mount you again. This time, as worked over as you are, it’s easy to take him to the root. He keeps nuzzling and pawing at your belly.

“You’re gonna let me keep doing this, right?” he asks. “Like last time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, the last time you were this big, when the kits were all active and squirmy. Fuck that was so hot, Karkat. You were so hot.” His bulge coils and thrashes inside of you. “Will you let me keep fucking you even when you’re really pregnant? Or is that just for new toms?”

You reach down and paw at his ear. “Whenever you want, John. I don’t care how recently you fucked me or if you monopolize my time so fucking much that every kit I birth for the rest of my life is yours. I want to make you feel good.”

And maybe it’s a lie, but it’s a pretty one. Besides, even as eager as young toms are, he can’t keep up with you now and he won’t be able to once your pregnant libido kicks in either. He only manages to get you to come before he does by pawing at your bulge and your teats at the same time, and even then it’s only a moment before he gives you another rush of come. It’s smaller than his other two, and you accept every single drop, locking it away nice and safe in your gene bladder.

You take a quick nap, only to be woken by an eager Dave, ready to take his second swing. He gives you an amazing orgasm, and you kind of feel bad about the three drops of his material that leak out. But even your well-stretched gene bladder can only hold so much. He curls back up with you and you let him. ...At least until Meenah pays you a visit.

But even your toms’ tag team mountings can't keep up with your body. They keep you semi-full the next night, but the one after you’re as flat as you can get these days. Yeah, your stretched skin still sags while you're on all fours, and you’ve always got some milk left, but your genebladder is effectively empty. Of course, you feel amazing. You don't know if there's something in the slurry or the knowledge that you've got a brand new litter in your belly or something else deep and biological you don’t understand, but you never feel better than after your heats.

The next nice night you bring your last litter out of the brooding den. You take them around, showing them the territory and introducing them to their fathers.

You spend more time above ground after that, keeping a close eye on the kits, trying to figure out their natures so they can be properly assigned when the new ones are born. Well… you keep an eye on them when you can. Sometimes you need to talk to someone from another colony, and sometimes your toms need a bit of loving. But these are the days when you have the most time and the most energy.

Then one evening you wake up to find a little lump in your lower stomach. If there was any doubt about you conceiving after all of that sex, it's gone now. Once the toms find it they coddle you more, snuggling and grooming and occasionally fucking you. You suppose the sex doesn’t technically matter anymore, but it keeps them loyal and _fuck_ if it doesn't feel good. They bring you the best food, groom the areas you can't reach, take the kits to let you sleep soundly, and then they fuck you. And the fatter you grow, the more the toms dote on you, and the more pleasure you get.

Near the end that's the only thing that gives you relief. The last couple of weeks of pregnancy are always rough, even for you. As the months pass you wean the kits, and then the broodies are on full time trying to make sure they don’t go out and get mauled by wolves. You, at least, stay safe in your burrow, because there’s no fucking way you’re moving unless you really have to. You’re bigger than you’ve ever been before. When you’re properly fed and properly fucked, your belly almost touches the ground. And these kits are extra spirited, turning and squirming inside of you constantly. If you lie down wrong it’s hard to breathe, so you wind up spending most of your time in a semi-contorted position in your nest. It’s too much effort to move much, and even if you did you wouldn’t want to go out. If you have to be immobile, you’re glad it’s in the deepest part of winter.

And this is really where Jade shines. She enters the brooding burrow, dragging a young deer behind her. It’s even larger than she is, but she manages to bring it over to you so you don’t have to move much. She sits back proudly on her haunches.

“Dinner time!” She says cheerfully.

“Did you get this by yourself?” You ask.

“Karkat, you know I hunt better alone!”

“Just checking,” You say. “I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to thank two of you properly.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She lifts a paw and begins cleaning it. “Just eat.”

And you do. You tear it apart. You drink some of the blood when you notice it spilling, but you’re really after something better. The liver, the heart, the fat under the skin. It’s heavy and hearty and your poor stomach feels ready to burst well before you’re finished. It doesn’t help when your new litter pushes up against it. Fuck, you feel so full it’s amazing. When you glance up at her there’s clear hunger in her bright green eyes, and you’re fairly confident it’s the sexual sort. It makes you unsheathe right then and there. You gulp down a few more bites and then moan and lie back, rubbing your belly. You stretch your legs, showing off your nook  and let your bulge curl in the air, a clear invitation to her. Then, embarrassingly, you let out a massive belch.

Thankfully, she just laughs. “Nice and full there, momma?” She asks, gliding up next to you.

You smile nervously, trying to get back on track. “I’ve always got room for more.”

“Really now?” She turns away, tears off another chunk of meat and brings it to you. And, well, that burp did open up a little more space.

“Not what I meant, but I’ll take it.” She lowers it into your mouth as she climbs on top of you. For a split second you see a flash of green, then it’s obscured by your girth.

Her bulge tangles up with yours. You sigh and let your eyes close. You were expecting to be mounted but… you suppose this is nice too. Then she flexes and pushes her bulge and your own into your waiting nook. You yelp in surprise as you attempt to sort through the confusing sensations. You’re full to capacity, you’re tight and hot, you need to move deeper, you can’t take any more.

“Breathe,” she tells you, and you manage to, just barely.

And with that, you loosen a bit. Your bulge, acting on its own, starts fucking you hard and deep and it’s _good_ but made even better because she’s right there with you, making everything tighter and hotter. She lowers some of her weight onto the curve of your belly, making the pressure even better.

You can’t talk, only a stream of whines and moans leave your mouth. She slowly gives you more and more pressure and for a moment you’re certain you’re about to pop like a berry between two paw pads.

And you do, in a way. Your orgasm floods through you. It’s always a weird feeling, self-pailing, as your material leaves your shameglobes only to be reinserted right into your gene bladder. But now it’s closer to your stomach, closer to your womb, and then she’s right behind you, filling you with her material, soothing the fire that threatens to burn you up.

You breathe deeply. Or as deeply as you can between the kits and the deer and the material and her weight. “Wow,” you breathe. “Thank you.”

She laughs. “Such a charmer, you are.”

“Do I need to charm you? I’ve already got your babies.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” She nuzzles your side.

Time passes, the snow melts. Kankri heads off  with his two broodie littermates to start his own colony. You give him directions to where he can pick up a few young toms, like your dad did for you. Two other young queens come through and take your toms from the same litter. You hate seeing your kits leave. This is only your second time actually saying goodbye, and you don’t know if it’ll ever get easier.

But you need the room. Only a few days later you go into labor. Rose and Kanaya care for you through the day giving you water and herbs to dull the pain. It takes forever and the kits squirm, like they’re fighting for birth order. Thankfully, none of them get stuck. When that happened with your last litter you thought you were going to die - you would have if it weren’t for Rose. This time it’s much smoother, your seasoned body bringing life after life into the world.

The broodies keep count as they take them quickly to clean them. One, two, three, four, five, six - God, this is going to be your biggest yet - seven -shit you hope you have enough nipples to feed them all - eight - fuck, this is it, fuck shit what are you going to do? But to your immense relief the next round of contractions brings nothing but afterbirth.

Eight… eight is perfect. You stretch out on your side and purr to them. Blind and deaf, they shuffle forward. You help guide each of them to a nipple and for the first time you feel release in all of your teats at the same time. You lean down to groom as many of them as you can reach. They’re beautiful, whoever's they are. When their horns grow in and their blood colors start to show you’ll figure it out. You kind of hope at least one is John’s. You felt so bad when Jade didn’t get any her first year. But that’s a problem for later. For now you just lie there and bask in the feeling of being a queen who has done his job and done it damn well.


End file.
